Come Little Children
by KSoleAngel
Summary: A hundred years ago, something happened in a small village. Children were lost and a witch cursed the world. Over time, many stopped believing. The event became a legend. However, a few still believe in what happened, and a century long curse is about to resurface. A child is now in danger; and it is up to his big brother and the Bad Touch Trio to save him, and the world. Can they?
1. Prologue

**Hello to everyone! It is true, here is your proof, I am writing again! The idea for this story came to me one day, then I watched some Hocus Pocus.**

**This story marks my first started Hetalia FanFic! I have chosen to write an AU to begin. **

**Editing completed my MarioPwnsYou4Life. Enjoy.**

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PROLOGUE

Thunder shook the sky as bolts of lightning encased the world with a blinding flash. The storm was getting worse by the minute and streets began to flood.

A group of enraged citizens trekked through the rising mud water on the unpaved dirt roads; in their hands were pitchforks and extinguished torches.

The wind blew stronger as they approached a single house- no, more like a manor- which sat at the edge of the town. Angered cries were barley audible over the crashing rain. However, never once did they consider taking refuge from the storm.

They were on a mission. One that could not wait for the weather to clear. They were on their way to kill the witch that lived in the mansion.

For months now, children all over town had gone missing. Many worried parents and townsfolk tried to keep their little ones safe, but somehow the thing that was taking them away could never be found. That is, until now.

It was the daughter of the mayor who had vanished this time. The sweet, eleven-year old had gone missing earlier that day, while going to school with her big brother. Except, she nor her brother ever showed up at the building. The people searched the entire village before finally locating the mayors nineteen-year old son unconscious at the edge of the woods. The only relief to the mayor was the fact his son appeared to be unharmed; he was only knocked out.

Now the question became: were did the little girl go?

The townspeople searched the woods and the fields for the entire afternoon, but were not able to locate the little girl. Most of the people were beginning to lose hope in ever finding the mayor's daughter… until they found a very impotent clue.

Laying on the dirt path half a mile from the edge of the woods, a purple ribbon was dropped. It was the same ribbon the mayor's son gave to his little sister for her tenth birthday. Everyone in the village knew she wore it in her hair every day. This was a sign that they were on the right path; the path that would solve the mystery of the missing children.

Long hours of searching the dirt path directed the villagers in two locations. One way lead to the deeper parts of the woods, which eventually reach the river that divides the land with the next town over. The second path, however, points in direction of a single, lone house. This house was believed to have been abandoned for nearly twenty years, after the passing of the last owner.

It was believed a possibility the young girl had wandered off and sought shelter after being attacked… The mayor gathered a small group of five men to investigate the home for more clues about his daughter. Among these men was the mayor's son, who had regained consciousness several hours after the search first began.

As the men made their way down the path, a sudden darkness washed over them. Glancing around the area, the men concluded it was only the clouds covering what was left of the sunlight. A quarter mile away from the village all the men stood frozen in horror when they caught sight of the house.

There was smoke coming from the chimney! The first thought would be one of the missing children must have started a fire if the smoke rising into the air was the normal white color of burning wood…but this smoke was black. Black as night and evil as the unknowing soul that wanders from the path of God. There was no doubt in their minds about who was living in that home, or why the children had been disappearing throughout the village. The resident in that house… was a witch!

Cautiously, the mayor and his son approached the brick home with hope and fear in their hearts. If it really was a witch who had been taking the children… it was the witch who kidnapped innocent souls to use for only dark purposes… They prayed it was not too late to save the wicked creature's latest victim.

Slowly, the others began to follow. As the men came closer, they realized this home was much larger than any other in the area. Several stories high and made if sturdy bricks and stone. The mayor's son snuck up to glance through a window on the frost floor. His eyes wandered over ever detail of the interior; making sure no miss a single detail if it could help save his little sister. He spotted the fire place on the far side of the center room. Dangling over the open flame was a cauldron bubbling over with a glowing white substance.

In the middle of the room was a pentagram with candles flickering around each corner. What appeared to be a spellbook was perched on a high table next to the cauldron and it was opened to a specific page.

This was indeed the house of a witch! The young man ducked under the sill when he heard foot steps approach from the another section of the home. From behind the young man, his father eyed him worriedly. Motioning the older man over with a shake of his head so the older man could see with his own eyes.

Together, they slowly looked back through the glass window to find a young woman stirring strand powders in the the cauldron. Her back was turned to them, but they could tell she had long pale hair and a violet dress that came to her ankles. Around the woman's waist was a black and white striped bow that tied in the back; as well as a white bow on the top of her head.

Bringing a large wooden spoon filled with her concoction, the witch seemed satisfied with her work. She turned, seeming to call someone from the next room. While she waited, the witch walked over to the pentagram and began chanting a spell. An eerie green glow seeped through the floor and brightened the room. Then, the person the witch called entered.

Father and son stared in disbelief as the mayor's daughter slowly came to stand behind the witch obediently. The little girl's emerald eyes were glazed over and she had no control over her body at all. The young man was ready to crash through the window and save his sister, but the mayor held him back; shaking his head.

"No" the father's voice was laced with sorrow "Do not do anything rash or that monster will not hesitate to kill you and your sister." The grip on his son's shoulder eased in trust. The son was speechless, but obeyed his father. He realized the truth in the older man's words. All they could do for the time being was watch and wait for the right moment.

The witch gave the girl a command and the young girl began walking toward the glowing pentagram.

Panic struck through the hearts of the two watching men as the girl stood in the center of the circle. The witch continued chanting her incantation while retrieving a vial of potion from the boiling cauldron.

Waiting was taking its toll and finally the mayor gave a command the the rest of the man who had joined him and his son: "Run back to the village and warn the people! This demon must be stopped before anything horrible plagues the town more than what has already been done!" Nodding, the others raced off through the quickly approaching night.

Meanwhile, the mayor gave a nod to his son and they bolted for the door of the witches home. The son ran full force, expecting the door to be blocked by some force; however, the wood slammed open. He stumbled forward, but quickly regained his balance. "Stop spawn of Satan!" the young man screamed.

The witch's eyes widened for a moment before returning to their sickly calm expression. "Hello there young man" she said in a seductive voice "How is that think skull of yours feeling?" A high pitched laugh echoed throughout the empty house. The son gritted his teeth as he took a cautious step toward his little sister; who seemed oblivious to everything around her.

"What have you done to my sister?!" The mayor stood beside his angered son. He too was not pleased in the least bit. If he could, the mayor would send the creature back to the underworld she came from with his own two hands. "Release my daughter this instant! She has no business in the black magic you have cursed upon her!" The older man was close to tears at the thought of losing his little girl to a force so wicked.

"I am glad to say that I cannot complete your request." She continued to smile over at the men. "You see, once the incantation has begun, to stop the spell means sacrificing the life of my victim." The despair on the mens' faces gave her the pleasure of holding all the power. Soon the world would be at her mercy… with another special guest.

"No!" the brother of the girl protested, but could not bring himself to move. How could he risk his little sister's life?  
"Lily!" He called with all his might. He hoped somehow she would hear his voice and break through the evil spell she was under. Maybe the witch was unable to stop the spell, but surely the little girl could bring herself to escape the evil hands that held her in place.

For a moment, a look of recognition flickered across the girl's eyes. Though the spark was gone as quickly as it had appeared, it was enough of her brother to continue trying. "Please! Lily, you need to snap out of this witch's spell!" He continued shouting her name and begging for her to awaken from the trance. All the while, the witch began grow more troubled. She had come so close to completing her goal, and now these fools have come to ruin everything!

"Stop that noise at once!" She screamed. The young man ignored her angered cry. His only concern was retrieving his little sister. After a minute of shouting, from the men's point of view seemed to be hours, the glaze look left the little girl all together. "B-big brother?" She called weakly; as if she had just woke from a dream. Slowly, she stretched her hand out for her brother and father. The two relieved men were about to rush forward, until an abnormally strong wind blew them back into the wall.

The acid green glow of the circle transformed into a storm of angry red and dark purple. The young girl's face was filled with terror as the winds increased in intensity around her. Just beyond the circle, the witch was shielding her eyes from the tornado. "Look at what you have done!" she screeched at the men. "The spell was interrupted! Now the child shall die!"

"No!" both men screamed; trying to remove themselves from the stone structure of the house. All their efforts were in vain. A crash of thunder roared through the room and a flash of blinding light forced the men to cover their eyes. The last thing they heard before the eerie silence was Lily's scream.

When the room cleared, the witch was gone and the little girl lay motionless on the ground; her emerald eyes open and unseeing. "Sister!" her big brother rushed forward and held her close to his heart. Tears ran freely down his cheeks. Their father was in too much shock to move. His little girl had been killed… by a demon! Fury surged through the mayor and he walked over to cradle his son in a comforting hug. "We will have our vengeance on that evil creature." he whispered. Turning to Lily, he picked her up from the cold wood floor and started for the front door.

Before they could reach the knob, an echo of footsteps from the floor above caught both of their attention. "The monster must have fled to the attic." The son whispered; his father nodded in agreement. From outside, the men heard the pounding of a crowd and angered chanting. "The town's people! They have come at last!…I only wish it was already not too late…." The father hugged Lily's body closer to his chest. His son placed a hand on his shoulder "We will avenge her, father." he assured the depressed man. "Vash…" he gave a sorrowful smile "you are growing into a fine man. Now, let us join the others to take down this beast!"

The two ran from the home and met the villagers not far down the path. Seeing the corpse of the young girl created many heavy hearts. As the mayor and his son led the way back to the house, rain and thunder spewed from the sky. "Tis the witch's doing! We must stop her evil!" Vash shouted over the winds.

That is how they ended up in this position…

With the force of the entire village working together, the witch could not put up a good fight. The people tore the door from its hinges and flooded into the manor. A few men found the witch hovering over her spellbook in the attic. Quickly, they grabbed the book and dragged the woman from the house. Some of the men set up a noose using a high branch from a nearby tree. Everyone gathered around to view the hanging of the witch. (Apologies from the author for the quickness of this scene).

"Do you fools truly believe death will stop me!?" she laughed wickedly. "You have ruined my summoning this time, but in a century's time I shall be called back to the world of the living!" Winds increased around the witch as she chanted her curse. The people became more uneasy by the moment and prayed for her words to be overpowered by the Almighty.

"When I return, I will once again find the most innocent child and use their soul to open the gateway that separates the living from the dead! My brother shall return and together we will take this world back from you mortal fools!" Lightning struck as the barrel the witch had been standing on was blown out from underneath her feet.

A mix of gasps and cheers reverberated through the crowd. The witch was dead, but her words still echoed in their ears. The village attempted to do whatever it could to destroy any trace of the witch's presence; beginning with the burning of her body. Unfortunately, they found overtime the building would burn, it would somehow remain standing as if nothing had ever happened. The people decided to do the next best thing and boarded up the old home.

They prayed their efforts would be enough to stop the demon's prophecy from coming true to generations of the future...

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**Reviews are welcome and hope the intro for my latest fic was enough to convince some of you to continue reading. **

**Thank you all! **


	2. A Hundred Years Later

**Thank you to all those reading this story. I know the updates too some time, I am working on the plot at the moment. **

**Special gratitude to MarioPwnsYou4Life for edits and making me not be lazy.**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to FUN. (You should be watching).**

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**Chapter 1- A Hundred Years Later**

After the witch had been hanged, her corpse swaying from the branch of the tall Oak, the people of the village did whatever they could to prevent her wicked words from one day causing history to repeat; however, they knew most would not be alive to face that day. The village had been cursed and the people realized their days of peace may be numbered. They did whatever they thought would sever the dark bonds that now strangled the town. After they had gotten rid of the soulless monster, the people lit their torches and set her home ablaze in hopes all the evils that the building had contained would be sent far away.

While the Major and his son knew nothing they did would bring young Lily back from the dead, they could prevent another child from suffering the same fate. So, as the blaze lit the surrounding woodland, the villagers took the corpse of the witch and buried her under holy symbols on blessed grounds... her grave remained unmarked. The following day, to the dismay and shock of the people, the witch's house was standing once more; seemingly untouched while the grass around the mound of soil she was covered by had withered. Together the villagers decided if they could not get rid of the house, they would stop any life from becoming trapped within its walls.

From that day on not a single soul was allowed to enter the home for any reason. Young children were frightened off by the stories their parents told them, and the adults knew the evil the mansion would bring if it was given the chance to feed on the souls of the innocent. Several young men volunteered to board the building to prevent entry by a wandering stranger. With their efforts and aid from the grieving mayor, soon an iron gate was built to contain the evil if it were ever to return (1).

As the years passed, those who were present on that tragic night became old and died. The mayor had taken his son far from the town three months after the death of his daughter. Even in their efforts to warn their kin of the curse, a game of telephone has ways of twisting facts into a fabricated knot of story telling. Now, all the fear of the witch's curse has become nothing more than a legend. The home was declared a historic landmark fifty years after the hanging of the witch, which is the reason it remains uninhabited. However, there are a few people living in to town who still believe the stories their parents would tell them are true.

Indeed a very few believed the stories, but some children never grew out of their belief. Though, only three of the town's best known trouble makers were aware that it was almost time for the witch to return. The 'Bad Touch Trio', as they had come to be called, had spent hours looking into the old legend and planning to send the evil within back to Hell whenever she decided to show her face. The Trio will be victorious and rescue the town from its curse, and then… they were going to be heroes!

They would save the town and claim all the wealth and praise from all of the grateful people. Then everyone will realize they are not insane; the stories are true and everyone was turning a blind eye. However, the house still remains quiet. Every day the three of them had come straight from the schoolhouse to watch for any signs that something was happening. Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis had tried to be patient for the past eight months the year has forced them to endure.

The three sit outside every day after school or all weekend long. Some almost missed having to worry about one of their schemes going the wrong way, but most were more than happy they had found some way to entertain themselves for the time being.

"Hey! Get your pervy hands off my awesome butt!"

"Well then tell this pedophile to move over!"

"I am not a pedophile!… Romano isn't that much younger than I am…"

"Shut up! I thought I saw something moving inside!"

"Mon Du! Where?"

"Si, I think I saw it to-… wait… just a curtain."

"Damnit!"

Most of their time was spent researching as many supernatural spells and exorcisms as they possible could. They practiced their chants; although, Antonio was nominated to be the official spell reader since he understood more Latin than the other two… and Antonio did not know very much himself. Many of their classmates teased that if they were the towns only hope then everyone was in serious trouble.

"That 'witch' is due to show up any day now!" shouted the self-proclaimed leader of the group, Gilbert. He was, however unusual, an albino with crimson eyes and snow colored hair. Gilbert is the one who speaks out the most and taught his younger brother, Ludwig, to call him 'My Awesome Big Brother'. "Si mi amigo, but when is what is killing me not to know." Antonio was the most lazy of their group and usually tried and failed to get his adopted brother, Lovino, to do most of his chores… Lovino always responded with "Why don't you get a maid then?" However, the kid was too cute to hate for very long. And the third member had earned a reputation as the future town pervert. Francis was proud of his French heritage and certainly proved any stereotype correct. On numerous late night plotting parties, Francis would be in-charge of all the cooking. The reason why they are now choosing to watch over the house is because in all the old newspapers that were found in the library never included a day, but they did print the month. An article about the tragedy of the town's darkest day in history was published in October.

"What are you three idiots doing now?" Said a monotone voice from behind their hiding spot.

"Who are you calling an idiot!?" Gilbert turned to meet eye to eye with Arthur Kirkland. The British man was standing over them with his arms crossed over his chest. "None of your business Kirkland!" cried Antonio. He never did forgive the man for defeating him in battleship…ever single time they played.

"Well, considering you are causing such a fuss and we need to take this street to get home…" Arthur motioned to the little boy standing shyly behind him, "Alfred and I would like to enjoy some peace on our walk."

At that moment, Francis' perverted side decided to come out. "Well hello there Arthur." The long-haired blonde said in a slow breath before looking behind the Englishman, "And good afternoon to you as well little Alfred." he sent a wink to the fair haired child cowering behind his older brother's legs. "G-good afternoon Mr. Francis…" Alfred kicked at the dirt and directed his attention toward his shoes. Arthur quickly stepped to the side so his entire body was blocking his brother from the eyes of the hungry Frenchman. "Bugger off you Wanker! Stop scaring the poor lad." The overprotective side of the butter blonde was always present when his brother was the focus of attention.

"I was only saying 'hi' to the little cutie." the other defended, but did not sound very convincing. Without warning, Francis swooped in behind Arthur and cuddled Alfred to his chest, "You are so lucky, Anglettere! Alfred is just the most adorable little boy I have ever laid eyes on!" Said little boy was in panic mode. He knew exactly how Francis could be from many past experiences. The young sunflower (2) tried desperately to reach out for his big brother's hand. Arthur, in return, wasted no time in hitting the hormonal pervert upside the head and took Alfred into his own arms.

"You ever touch Alfred again, it will be the last thing you do, Frenchy." An eerie dark presence loomed over Arthur's words. Alfred just responded by burying his face in his older brother's chest for protection. His older brother may not have many friends...any friends, but he would give his life for Alfred; it was this dedication that made the two so close.

"Uh, loosen up ya stick in the mud!" Gilbert gave Arthur a slap on the back, though it carried more force than necessary. The British man was almost sent to the ground with Alfred in tow, but he quickly regained his composure and set the young boy down. "I will not! You three need to learn to be more respectful of others!" a vein was ready to burst out of Arthur's head. "Who are you to talk about respect? You used to bully me around all the time!" Antonio screamed while waving an accusing finger in the other's direction. "I was not a bully! You just really suck", he turned to Alfred for a brief moment, "Pardon my tongue, at battleship!"

Antonio was about to throw a punch when Francis came from behind and held his friend back. "Let us not start anything now. After all, there is a young child present." Alfred tightened his grip on his brother's pant leg. Gilbert decided the situation had grown boring, so he would make it cool again by adding himself into the conversation, "How old are you now, kid?" The young boy timidly looked up at the albino and answered in a quiet tone, "I turned nine in July." Arthur smiled at him; thinking the lad was too cute for his own good... especially when there were certain perverts and pedophiles around.

"Well, it is time for us to be getting home. Do try not to catch a cold standing outside in this weather." Arthur took Alfred's small hand and pulled the boy along. When the brothers were out of earshot, Alfred smiled at his big brother, "That was nice of you to wish them well." The other gave the boy a sideways grin, "I didn't. I couldn't care less if they were to freeze to death in this weather. I just don't want then putting germs into the air and getting you ill." The rest of the walk to their home was spent in silence as Alfred digested his brother's twisted thoughts.

Meanwhile, the Bad Touch Trio stared in the direction Arthur and Alfred had disappeared into. "Aww, he does care." Francis has an amused grin spread across his face. "Mi amigo, somehow I believe there is a darker meaning behind those words..." All three continued staring for several more minutes until Gilbert's attention span finally gave in. "Ah, who cares what he thinks?!" The albino spoke up. "He just better watch out."

"Why is that Monsieur?" Francis voiced the question on both his and Antonio's minds. Gilbert looked over his shoulder to the witch's house. "Legend says she will come back and steal the soul of an innocent child... Well Alfred seemed pretty innocent to me." The other two were in shock at this sudden realization. They too looked upon the house with a new found fear. For the first time in their lives, they had a specific reason to keep the witch away... none of them wanted Alfred to suffer the same way the little girl had a hundred years ago...

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**The ending is a bit abrupt, but I plan to work out that problem in future chapters.**

**Review and/or Follow if the story has your interest. **

**Thank You For Your Time-**


	3. To Protect Each Other

**Hello to all those who have decided to follow my story! I know it has been many months since the last update, but I have been standing in front of a huge block for sometime. The story is now ready to continue and I hope you all enjoy what is going to happen from here.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, but I will fangirl for the beautifulness of this wonderful fan base. The idea still remands in my mind.**

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**Chapter 2:**

***Some Background Information***

Arthur Kirkland was known by everyone in school, and just about everyone in his small town, not to socialize very well with others. He was the type of person who always seemed to present himself as better or more sophisticated than his peers. For this reason no one really liked him. Ever since he was a young child he lived in a world of his own. Arthur was bullied often and beaten for his belief in magical creatures. He claimed he could see them and they would talk to him. Eventually, the other children left him alone altogether unless to make fun of the poor boy.

As Arthur grew older he never stopped believing he could communicate with magical creatures; however, the thing that did change was the distance he placed between him and the world. His heart became cold; unable to interact with the feelings of others. Through the remainder of elementary school he never had a friend. When classes were over the lonely boy would hurry home to practice magic from the various spell books mixed with his British literature. Middle school was the same. All his teachers were impressed by his extensive vocabulary, but were disappointed that those big words were usually complex ways to insult the others around him.

Nothing seemed to change until Arthur was thirteen. His mother became pregnant and Arthur was dreading the day he would have to start making sure all his books were out of reach from a drooling, curious baby. The summer before eighth grade turned the young Kirkland's world upside down. That year on the Fourth of July, his least favorite holiday of them all, his mother gave birth to a healthy baby boy. The baby was named Alfred F. Kirkland.

The first time Arthur saw the newborn he didn't notice anything special; it was just another obnoxious crying infant. However, one day Arthur was in his room reading Great Expectations when his peace was interrupted, yet again, by Alfred's screaming. The baby had been crying like this since he was brought home from the hospital over a week ago. The older could not take all the noise and got up to see what the problem was now. He walked into the nursery his parents had prepared and noticed there was no one else in the room except the infant in his crib. "Where the bloody... is mother? She wouldn't just leave like that." Alfred continued to cry until Arthur walk straight up to the crib and looked down on the little nuisance. "What are you screaming for?!" The older gripped the edge of the crib's wooden frame. To his surprise, Alfred stopped crying for a few moments to look up at his older brother. Their eyes met fully for the first time, and Arthur took notice to how pure and innocent the baby's eyes were. Alfred was born with stunning sky blue eyes that reminded Arthur of the peace of a cloudless summer day where he could sit outside for hours reading and talking with his magical friends.

"...There, there old chap." He slowly reached into the crib to pat his little brother on the head. "You have got quite the lung power to scream so much, but don't you think it's time to give it a rest for a little while?" Although the butter blonde knew the infant could not understand a single word being said to him, the intense look in those blue eyes made Arthur feel as if the other were really listening to what he had to say. The baby took Arthur's hand as he went to leave the room. "What is it?" Alfred smiled at his brother and began, finally, to fall asleep. "At least I can get some peace now..." Arthur spared one last glance at his little brother before turning out the light and quietly leaving his brother to sleep.

From that day on the two became almost inseparable. When Arthur would return home from school, he would go straight to wherever Alfred was and relieve his mother. Alfred would watch Arthur as he worked on his homework and Arthur would check to make sure Alfred did not need his diaper changed. After all his work was done, Arthur would play and read Alfred stories until it was time to eat and go to bed. The boys' parents were proud that the two got along so well. Arthur even watched over Alfred as the young boy grew old enough to attend grade school. When Arthur was eighteen, he had to move out to attend a college about an hour away from their small town. Both he and Alfred had been upset, but Arthur promised he would always be there if the other needed him...

Unfortunately, Alfred would need him very soon. Two years after Arthur moved out, their parents were involved in an automobile accident that killed them both; Alfred was with them. Alfred was left waiting in the emergency room with minor injuries and a fractured arm. The usual hour long drive took Arthur no more than half an hour after he received the news. The moment his eyes landed on his little brother, the older wrapped his arms around him tightly and vowed never to let him go again. Alfred was almost placed into foster care after that, but Arthur would not hear of it. Dropping his studies, he returned to his home and adopted his little brother. So now, here the brothers are three years later living fairly well off the money left by their parents in the will. Arthur attended a local community college while Alfred was a well behaved elementary school student.

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"Arthur! Arthur!" tiny footsteps came rushing down the hallway. "Look what I made for you!" Alfred ran into the kitchen where his older brother was chopping vegetables for dinner. The little boy was bouncing up and down with excitement as Arthur turned to find the source of all the commotion.

"What do you have there?" the older placed the knife a safe distance from the edge of the counter and grabbed a towel to dry his hands. Alfred extended closed hands toward the other and said,

"Close your eyes and hold out your hands!" The smile on the little boy's face spread joy throughout the entire room. "Alright, alright." Arthur did as he was told and waited to receive Alfred's gift. "No peeking!" Alfred warned.

"I won't! I promise." The oldest blonde laughed at the younger's innocent comments. "Are you sure?", "Have I ever broken a promise to you?" Arthur defended while still standing with his eyes shut tight. "Hehe, nope!"

Arthur then felt a light weight placed into the palms of his hand. The texture was like softly carved wood and a pleasant scent of pine came to his senses. "Okay, open your eyes!" The little one shouted, his hands flying into the air in pure happiness. Arthur did so and looked at the small object his brother had given him. "Alfred…this is…" amazement showed on the butter blonde's face as he gazed at the acorn charm that appeared to have been carved by hand from a smaller piece of tree bark.

"Do you like it!? We had to bring in our own supplies to make something special to us in school!" Alfred explained as Arthur continued to stare at the charm. "I was just going to use some paints, but then I found a piece of wood during recess and remembered that story you told me. Remember when you said that people in England used to carry these around because they protected them from bad things?"

"Oh, yes I do recall telling that quite some time ago…" Arthur's gazed shifted to the smile on his little brother's face. Alfred continued explaining the reason for his 'project'.

"Well… I wanted Arthur to be safe, too! You used to always come home hurt… it made me sad." The little boy gripped the hem of his shirt tightly and looked at the ground. After a few moments of silence the younger asked in a timid voice, "D-do you like it?" The silence that followed made Alfred more nervous; however, he was surprised when he felt two arms wrap around him and pull him into warmth. Arthur had fallen to his knees to give the child a bear hug to express what he could not manage with words.

"Oh you wonderful child!" Arthur's heart wanted to melt at his little brother's kindness. "I love it more than anything except one thing." He pushed his little brother out to arms length. Alfred looked into his brother's emerald eyes with curious joy. "Really!? What's that?" The older smiled warmly and pulled Alfred into another hug before he replied "You."

"I'm so happy you like it! i worked really hard to get it just right." A few minutes passed by before Arthur told Alfred to go play so he could finish preparing dinner. Watching the child run off gave Arthur an overwhelming sense of happiness. He walked over to his supply cabinet and took out a strand of royal blue thread from his sewing kit. Alfred had been clever enough to make a small hole in the stem of the acorn. Arthur knotted the thread and slipped the charm over his head so it would drop around his neck. Looking back down at the charm, he whispered to himself "Thank you, Alfred." Then he returned to cooking *cough, cough- Burning* dinner.

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With the destined day of the witch's resurrection coming closer, the Bad Touch Trio were working overtime on their supernatural knowledge.

"Yawn... I'm breaking for a little while." Antonio had been up since the crack of dawn when Romano decided to use his stomach as a trampoline. "I love that kid...but he can be such a pain sometimes."

Francis leaned over his shoulder and got this glassy look in his eyes. The Spaniard rolled his eyes and said, "No, you cannot have him."

"Will you two pull yourselves together!" Gilbert wanted to be part of the conversation to! "No one has a better little brother than my little star! My tough little Ludwig is the greatest fighter you are ever going to see!" The German brothers were known for their strength, but Gilbert enjoyed reminding everyone about it anytime the topic presented itself.

"Si, but you must also recall that little Ludwig is not so little anymore... He is in high school now."

"Wee, and you might have the strongest family roots, but he has quite an overprotective nature." Francis pointed out this one flaw. "Have you seen what that kid would do if you get near his sweet Italian friend?"

"Whatever!" The albino was not about to show the loss of this argument. "Get back to work! We must be ready whenever that witch decides to show her slimy face." He threw a spell book at Antonio.

"Watch it!"

"Mon Due..."

Lightning flashed through the sky as Gilbert pounced on Antonio, who had latched onto Francis. The three froze for a few seconds before they turned to look through the open window of their clubhouse.

"Isn't it a little bit too dry for a thunderstorm at this time of the year?" Francis was doing his best to remain composed.

"Ja, you would think..." Gilbert thought about the odds a storm would happen in the driest season of the year. "Could it be...?" He tensed when a thought struck him. "Do you think the witch is coming... tonight?"

Everyone in the small room wrapped their minds around the possibility. The Bad Touch Trio rushed to the door and fell over one another as they scrambled outside to investigate the strange weather. Dark storm clouds rolled over the town and the intensity of the thunder strengthened.

"What the hell is that?" Gilbert watched as the clouds began to swirl near the center of town...toward the old house of the witch. Once cool fall air had turned to an icy chill.

"Mon cher... do you think that it could be her?" no one said a word, but they all thought the same. Instantly, they rushed into their clubhouse and grabbed everything they had been collecting for this night.

"Alright! This is what we have been training for minions!" the albino member started his quick before-battle speech, "Let's kill her!" And they started for the house.

The trio had made it almost halfway before Francis stopped to alert the group of a thought, "Wait! We have a pretty good idea who the witch is after, right?" Gilbert and Antonio nodded. "Shouldn't we go warn Arthur about the danger to little Alfred?"

"Ja! How about you go warn them while tomato-boy and I go ahead to face the witch?" the group agreed to the plan and went their separate ways. They prayed in the back of their minds that this situation would happen exactly how they had imagined all of these years.

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**I will make sure that you do not wait as long as you already have to see the next chapter. **

**Now that the witch is about to make her debut in the present day world, will the BTT and an over protective brother be enough to save the life of a young boy?**

**Stay tuned for our next episode!**

**-Thank you for Your Time.**


	4. The Witch has Returned

**Alright! Proud to say that the longest chapter so far did not take as long as others. I am trying hard to keep updating within a reasonable time frame. School for me is once again coming along, so time for fanfiction might be thin. Halloween is my goal to be more than halfway along with my story!**

**Thank you all dedicated fans, **

**Disclaimer: I own Hetalia not, but I can daydream more than a Disney Princess!**

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Chapter 3- The Witch is Back!

Another crash of thunder shook the walls of the small manor. The chandelier in the dining room seemed ready to fall from its chain if one more vibration hit the house. In the living room, Arthur had just sat for an evening cup of tea and a few books before the storm began. Alfred had been tucked in almost half an hour ago, and had looked rather calm when his older brother had last seen the child.

However, Arthur became worried for the boy after the first sound of thunder had echoed through the house. He had learned the hard way that Alfred was terrified of thunderstorms and did not like being alone. Usually when the weather takes a turn for the worst, the little boy can be found at his brother's side for protection. Currently, Arthur was still seated with his books; waiting for the other to come running to find him.

Another crash.

"What strange weather for this time of year." The Englishman mumbled under his breath.

It was true that a thunderstorm in the cool, dry autumn climate was almost unheard of. For a storm to have manifested this quickly threw the young man of guard completely. A light rain would be normal, or even a windy night when all the trees scrape against the windows. The wind Arthur could deal with as long as he was able to convince Alfred that there were no ghosts in the house.

"Well... better go check on the poor lad." Reluctantly leaving his warm chair, the butter blonde made his way to the staircase. He was about to take the first step when there was a sudden knock at the door. Curious as to who in their right mind would be out at such an hour, or at his front door in the middle of an oncoming storm, Arthur's first thought was that some unfortunate soul had gotten stranded as the weather turned and now needed a place to take refuge. The other half of his mind wandered to the possibility of a robber. If the second scenario was the case, Arthur grabbed a candle stick for good measure.

As he approached the door, the knocking became more frantic. Whoever this person was, he or she must have been in a hurry. Just before the Brit had a chance to grasp the doorknob, a voice on the other side captured his attention. Of the thousands of citizens in this town... why in the world did it have to be this one!?

"Oi! Open up!" the French accent was sharp as ever in his pleas.

"Open up, Arthur! I have something important I need to tell you!"

Sighing, Arthur leaned up against the wood frame of the front door and stood with a bored expression,

"I hope this is not another confession of your 'unyielding love', you perverted frog." He chose this time to examine his fingernails. It would honestly not be the first time the Frenchman had stumbled onto his porch in the middle of the night. Arthur only prayed Alfred was still fast asleep considering the growing thunder.

"No! That isn't it at all!" frantic changed to seductive, "But if you have finally realized that we are meant to be tangled together in heated passion-"

Francis was brought back to the current situation when Arthur kicked the door as hard as he could without breaking it open for the frog to waltz into his home.

" Will you just go away! I've got to get back to my little brother, if you don't mind!" Arthur turned and stared, once again, for the stairs. He had only managed to reach the first step when Francis spoke again. What he said this time triggered something in the Englishman's nerves.

"Wee! Arthur, that is what I have come to tell you! Your darling Alfred is in danger!" Francis banged on the door several times to get the other man's attention.

Suddenly, the front door swung open and the Frenchman found himself being pressed painfully against the wall; held in place by the collar of his shirt.

"Listen here, Frog, I don't care how many times you harass me," the gentleman's eyes growing dark, "but under no circumstance are you allowed to bring Alfred into your sick little games!"

The evil glow that radiated as a result of Arthur's over protective nature made Francis wish he had gone to face the witch instead. Sure, he liked to play dirty, but only in an affectionate mood. Arthur was only demonstrating hostile at the moment.

Francis was ready to run home crying, but he reminded himself why he was there in the first place. Alfred was in danger if the stories turned out to be true, and that kid was just too cute to forget about. Whenever Francis thought of the man that boy had the potential to grow-up into, he... Another jolt from the small Englishman in front of him pulled him from pervert mode and back to reality.

"Now get out of my sight before I pop you one!"

Suddenly, a crash like a window flying open echoed from upstairs followed by a child's scream. The house went deafeningly silent as lights began flickering. Thunder roared louder than before as the clouds surrounded the small manor. Within the clouds, the laughing of a young woman sliced through the air like a knife to warm butter.

"Alfred!"

Before the French hostage could blink, Arthur was halfway up the staircase heading to the little boy's room. Coming away from the shock, Francis took off after the other in hopes of reaching Alfred before anything bad could happen.

'What are Gilbert and Antonio doing?!'

Alfred had been fast asleep after being tucked in by his older brother. The child had so much to look forward to this month with Halloween and activities at school that he wore himself down just thinking about everything. He was also very happy that Arthur liked his gift. Even in his dreams, Alfred felt a slight sting where he had cut his hands several times while making the acorn charm. But to see Arthur smile was worth anything to him.

About an hour into his fantasy world, a loud noise brought Alfred from his dreams. At first he laughed it off as his imagination... then another crash came from outside his window. The child dived under the blankets and tried to block out the noise until Arthur would come in and check on him. His brother always came to protect him when there was a thunderstorm, or Alfred cried because he thought a ghost was lurking in his closet.

"Arthur..." he whimpered, but did his best not to cry. He knew he needed to be as brave as he could until he was back in his brother's arms. More thunder rang throughout the sky.

"Please hurry!" his call was muffled by the pillow he had pulled over his head.

What Alfred did not notice, was that the lock on his window began to unlock and slowly open a crack. A chill filled the bedroom, causing Alfred to sink deeper into the covers.

"Would you allow me to come inside?" an eerie female voice seemed to whisper into Alfred's ear. The frightened boy jumped up in surprise at the voice and was too terrified at this point to scream for help.

"Arthur... please come soon."

Alfred turned when he heard the window creak open slightly. Curiosity that could over come fear had the boy edge closer to the sill. He watched as dark clouds began to swirl in the sky.

"Dear sweet child," the voice spoke once more,

"would you like to come with me? I can show you a place filled with magic."

Alfred tensed and slowly edged away from the window. When the voice had spoken this time, it was like her words had come from his own head. The more he heard her laughter or the words she told him, the cloudier Alfred felt his mind becoming. It was like these were actually his thoughts and all other doubt or fear was being slowly pushed aside.

"That's right my pure little child," a figure began to manifest from the other side of the window, "let all your thoughts slowly fade away. I will guide you so you may serve a great purpose."

Alfred stared with partially glazed eyes at the shadow that was cast over his room. His mind was becoming empty except for a growing urge to take a step toward the window, to the pleasant voice calling to him. She seemed so kind... he wanted to help her so much that he no longer thought of anything but going to the one who was calling for him. He started to take his first step when another voice echoed from farther away in the house,

"Listen here, Frog, I don't care how many times you harass me,"

'That voice...' Alfred's mind began hazing with faded memories. 'I know that voice..."

The boy was breaking whatever spell the witch had cast upon his mind when hearing Arthur shouting from down stairs.

"under no circumstance are you allowed to bring Alfred into your sick little games!"

"Arthur?" Alfred whispered the name under his breath.

'Arthur... he's my older brother...' The young boy broke the chains placed around his mind as his brother's voice sounded in his head. All at once, the fear of the dark figure outside the window returned. His heart pounded with anxiety and the boy turned to run.

The witch would not stand for that one bit. There was no way she was going to let this one get away so easily. She had scanned over the town and not a single soul came close to the innocence radiating off this small child. In a burst of power, the witch blew open the window; letting in a terrifying gust of wind.

Alfred was unprepared and alone for the sudden violence that shook the walls of his bedroom. He glanced at the girl with long flowing pale blonde hair tied with a ribbon on top, her dress seemed so long and out of place. However, it was when Alfred looked at the violet glow in her hate filled eyes that he let out a loud shriek.

"Arthur!" before he could reach the door, the witch had sealed the wood shut with her magic. Frantically, the boy pounded against the wooden door that cut him away from his older brother.

"Help! Arthur!" Alfred knew his brother was going to be there to keep him safe. Arthur promised to protect him no matter what... right?

"I do not think that wise, little one." Her voice was so hollow that it echoed in the cold air. "Now, come with me and I will take you to my home. Would you like to come to my home with me?"

The hypnotic tone she had used before pierced Alfred's mind once more. He could barely hear the yelling coming from the other side of the door. The witch was becoming stronger the longer she was back in the world of the living. Taking control of the mind of a child took almost no effort at all. She completely blocked the boy's thoughts of his brother, making sure he forgot he even had an older brother.

Alfred turned around to face the woman again, only this time he showed no fear... or any other emotion. It was as though all sense of feeling had been suppressed deep inside where he could not reach anything. His mind began to go blank, his body seemed to move both on its own and with his consent. The child did not know why, but he wanted to go to this strange lady. The need to go to her and to do as she commanded overwhelmed his other senses. One step after another, he made his way to her open arms. Then, when only a foot away, she smiled at the boy and overshadowed his mind completely. Alfred collapsed into her arms like a puppet who's strings had just been cut.

She stared down at her prize while making her way back to the open window. As a taunt to those who try to get in the way, the witch lifted the enchantment she had placed over the door.

"Alfred!" Arthur cried as he ran full force into the wooden door to his brother's room. He tried like a madman to twist the knob and push his way inside; he needed to get to Alfred's side.

"Why won't it open?!" Francis stood beside the other, also beating on the door.

"How the bloody hell should I know!? Alfred!" Arthur was becoming hysterical at this point. There was no reason for the door to be stuck like this. The knob was turning, so it wasn't locked. What made matters worse was that Arthur could no longer hear anything going on in Alfred's room. The child could be hurt- what if he hit his head? What if someone had broken into the room? Horrible questions continued to flood Arthur's head.

"If this is some sick joke that you and your idiot friends have constructed...!"

"I am hurt! We may like to play pranks on you, but believe me when I say this is not us! It is the witch, she is back." Francis pleaded that Arthur would set aside any doubt for the sake of the young boy trapped on the other side of that door.

"Like I would believe a single word you-"

Arthur's anger vanished and was replaced with fear and disbelief when a new voice sounded from Alfred's room. It sounded like a young woman, but something was wrong. This voice was empty and void of any life. She spoke in such a calm tone that a chill ran down Arthur's spine.

When she had first began talking, the two men could only hear a muffled sound. However, her next sentence was clear as day to understand; and Arthur stopped all motion out of fear,

"Now, come with me and I will take you to my home. Would you like to come to my home with me?"

"No! Alfred!"

He rammed his shoulder against the door when he realized she was talking to Alfred. This... thing, was trying to take his little angel away from him. After the death of their parents, that little boy became the center of Arthur's world. No matter how many times he was picked on, or how awful a day he may have suffered; Alfred was always smiling up at him. Only Alfred could brighten the world with his contagious happiness. Only Alfred had ever treated him with all the love and affection that Arthur never thought he wanted... until he got it.

Suddenly, the door swung open and both Francis and Arthur stumbled inside. While the Frenchman fell to his knees from the unexpected force, Arthur kept his ground. He quickly looked up in search of his little brother, praying nothing had happened. What he saw made his blood boil and all the color drained from his face.

Standing in front of the window was a young woman wearing an old-style purple dress with an apron tied around her waist. Her eyes glowed violet and were enhanced by the storm growing outside. What made Arthur fill with rage was the small figure lying in her arms. His little brother, Alfred, was unconscious...or perhaps just asleep. She cradled the child and held him close to to her chest.

"Put. Him. Down." Arthur saw red. How dare anyone come into his home and steal his brother away. He promised Alfred that he would protect him from everything, no matter what may try to get in his way. Reaching up to grip the acorn charm he was given, Arthur was determined to rescue his little brother, even if it was going to cost his life to do so.

"Now, why would I want to do that?" Her voice now carried a mocking attitude. It was as though she was daring them try to interfere. "This innocent little child has a big job to do."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!" Arthur was readying himself to charge the intruder and reclaim Alfred. Whatever these 'plans' are, Alfred was not going to a part of them. Francis had gotten back to his feet, but could do little more than stare in shock at the scene playing out before his gorgeous eyes.

"Only the purest soul of the most innocent being would be enough of an offering to let a demon out of Hell." A sickening smile spread across her face, "And that is exactly what I plan to do!"

Before either man could question further, a strong gust of wind crashed through the open window. The force did nothing to the witch, but the others were slammed against the wall from the impact. She took that moment of surprise to fly away with Alfred in tow. Arthur was more than petrified when he watched her jump out of the second story window; quickly, he rushed to see where she had gone. However, when he reached the window he watched in terror as the woman flew away with his brother on what seemed to be a broom stick.

"Alfred!"

Francis came up behind the Englishman and noticed that she was heading back toward her house... where Gilbert and Antonio were supposed to be!

"Arthur, if you want to get your brother back you will follow me right now!" The distraught older brother just might be useful if they had any hope of pulling Alfred out of her spell. Too upset to protest or question the other, Arthur nodded and followed on shaky feet. Halfway toward the old house, Arthur overcame his shock enough to demand an explanation.

"What the hell was that!?"

"Well, remember all those stories that everyone claimed were not true? That would be the witch who is responsible for the death of that little girl a hundred years ago!"

"Witches can't... How could a witch suddenly just reappear like that? And what does she want with Alfred!?"

"All we know is that she needs the soul of an innocent child to complete some kind of spell!" the Frenchman hurried along faster when the street where the witch lived came into view. Keeping up, Arthur decided to ask questions later and focus all his energy to getting his brother out of danger.

'Alfred, I will protect you from this!'

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**Well, stick around and find out what happens next!**

**Remember to follow and let me know how the story is going so far ;)**

**Until Next Time!**


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